


I'll Be Over Here

by forparadise



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Implied Rhys/Handsome Jack, M/M, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5482484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forparadise/pseuds/forparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys keeps his ECHO eye after Helios falls; Vaughn worries about what he'll do with it.</p>
<p>Manipulative Rhys; Overly infatuated Vaughn; Vaughn's unaware he's being watched</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Over Here

\--

There was nothing Vaughn could ever remember wanting more than Rhys. It was the type of longing, though, that was usually reserved for authority figures, or celebrities – people you knew were completely out of reach, but if there was suddenly something, _anything_ , that you could do to get them – you would do it without a moment’s hesitation. Rhys was neither of these things, of course, but considering the differences between the two of them, he may as well have been.

In actual fact, they had spent a large portion of their adult lives as roommates, and best friends; they did everything together, from late night b-movie marathons, to meeting up in the food court during lunch nearly every day. Vaughn told himself that this was probably the problem; they were too close to be able to get any closer. The kind of closer that he wanted, anyways. Really, the obvious truth that Vaughn hated to admit to himself, was that Rhys was _out of his league_ , if they wanted to be adolescents about it. There were more times than not that they would go to parties together, and Vaughn would end up back at their small Helios apartment alone, only to hear Rhys attempting to sneak in some time later during the early hours of the morning (not that he would be waiting up particularly, just that during nights like those, it was often hard to fall asleep), and whether it was a good or bad night for the other man, Vaughn could expect to hear all of the details the next day. When he would make them both a mug of coffee and they’d sit on the couch together, Rhys’ feet thrown over his thighs while he walked him through the details. Vaughn never asked, but Rhys always told, and sometimes it bothered him – sometimes he wanted to tell Rhys that he should have come back with him instead, that he would never do anything that would upset him, that he would treat him right. That he would do anything that Rhys wanted him to.

But it would be ludicrous to actually say any of these things, so the best he could hope for, and he knew this was his fault but still couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for himself, was to be this person for him. Was to be the one that Rhys trusted and spoke to and relied on.

These were only some of the reasons why, having Rhys on his knees in front of him now, felt so unreal.

They had changed. Vaughn knew this more than anything. And not the type of changes he had attempted before Pandora – trying to feign mannerisms and interests that were more on par with Rhys’ usual boyfriend-material types (and boy did Rhys have a type. The kind of corporate bigwigs that cared about nothing more than who owned the most expensive watch and who had the prettiest piece of ass at their side. Not that he would ever share this opinion with Rhys. Instead, he tried to get along with them until Rhys got bored. He tried.) And not like the changes Vaughn had made to his body - for himself and for his health, yes, definitely - but if Rhys had _noticed_ , even once, Vaughn wouldn’t have complained. If he had looked at Vaughn _one_ _time_ , (before their escapades on Pandora, of course; before Handsome Jack had been whispering in his ear) the way Vaughn had always looked at _him_ , well, he figured he deserved at least that.

But now they were in Rhys’ office, _Rhys’ office_ , something they had often daydreamed about over beers, and it was different and not even close to what they had expected – it being on Pandora, all of the chaos that preceded it, the downfall of Hyperion – but it was Rhys’ office now and Vaughn was leaning against the desk with his pants around his ankles and the other man on the floor in front of him. It was both of their dreams come true in ways they had never envisioned, and Vaughn wanted to lose himself to it, to feel complete and victorious and whatever else should have come with this turn of events. Instead he felt distracted.

He was distracted because Rhys was. Not in a way that made him any less efficient - his mouth sliding over Vaughn, his tongue pressing thick and warm on the underside of his cock, was perfect and everything he had ever fantasized - but Rhys was distracted. He knew this because they were more than this, they were best friends (and with this thought he realized with exasperation how messed up the other man made him), and he had picked up on it as soon as he had walked in.

Rhys had invited him and, unquestioningly, Vaughn had made time for their reunion immediately. He was busy himself now, and a figure of prominence, as weird and insignificant as that actually felt; but he missed the other man. The man who had been his roommate for years and years, the person he had said good morning and good night to almost every single day for all of that time. That’s not something that you can easily turn away from.

But the others warned against it. The others still didn’t trust him, after the Handsome Jack fiasco (not that they ever really had), but they didn’t know him the way Vaughn did. They didn’t know that Rhys was gullible, that things like that happened to him sometimes. It wasn’t his fault. And he had been so obsessed with Handsome Jack; in a way that he liked to tease Rhys about, but sometimes was so extreme that it made him feel uneasy. Fiona would tell him that that alone was reason enough to not trust Rhys, let alone everything that came after. But Vaughn, unlike them, could appreciate the strength it took when Rhys had to destroy Handsome Jack himself, and the base that had housed him. When he had ripped his own arm off, to get Jack away from him.

It unsettled him later, yes, that after Rhys had established himself on Pandora with Atlas, he finally revealed to Vaughn that he had kept his dislodged Echo eye (not that he would ever tell the others this, the last thing Rhys needed was another reason for them to distrust him), but Rhys had assured him it was for business reasons. The technology could help move his company forward, he could sell it if they could figure it out, and besides, it was unlikely that Jack’s AI even survived the trauma. Highly unlikely. And Vaughn wanted to believe that.

But now it had been some time since they’d seen each other, and Rhys had kind of shut himself off from the rest of the world for a little while, so Vaughn was excited to get the invite.

They embraced when Vaughn had walked in and Rhys had held on long enough that Vaughn was able to breath in the smell of his shampoo, and when they pulled away Rhys was smiling at him, fingers curled around his biceps at arm’s length, and all Vaughn could think about was hoping that the heat on his ears and neck wasn’t an openly noticeable blush.

They sat on the office’s leather sofa and Rhys poured him a drink, and then a second, and they had talked non-stop about a lot of things, but there were moments when Rhys would turn his head, eyes focused on the empty space beside him, or behind his desk. Moments where he would ask Vaughn to repeat himself like he hadn’t heard a single word over his own thoughts. Questions he would ask that seemed to come out of nowhere.

But Rhys had a lot of responsibility now and Vaughn knew how overwhelming that could be. That was also why he wanted to help him out as much as possible. Rhys told him how impressed he was that Vaughn had made such a name for himself out in the wastelands; how he was amazed at how many friends and allies Vaughn had made and that he must know all of the important people now. That he was proud but also kind of jealous that Vaughn was so successful out there; that he wants to be like that but no one really trusts him since Helios and that he couldn’t blame them. And _how are things, really? Any vault key news? What has everyone been up to, any activity from the vault hunters?_

And then, _this is all I’ve ever wanted, but it’s so much harder than I thought it would be. So much more frustrating, so much lonelier._ His hand was on Vaughn’s knee with that, his thumb running along the meat of his thigh, and Vaughn wanted to help him, more than anything, so he answered his questions to the best of his knowledge. The more he opened up the more Rhys did, his hand moving further up his thigh, fingers brushing under the hem of his shirt, toying at the buttons on it. When Vaughn pulled back (and god he didn’t want to move away but he could feel heat at the back of his neck and it was impossible to stop looking at Rhys’ lips) Rhys moved with him, closer than before. He wanted to believe that Rhys had finally, _finally_ noticed him; he wanted to believe that maybe Rhys was just a little lonely, or bored, or anything other than what Vaughn couldn’t help but think when Rhys’ eyes flicked over to his desk, or when he smiled at the empty air behind his shoulder. So when he abruptly cut Rhys off to ask, _what ever happened with that echo eye?_ He didn’t even really realize his own implications, not that Rhys gave him the time to ponder it.

He was still for a moment, as if thinking, or _listening_ , and then his hand was sliding firm and steady over Vaughn’s lap, holding Vaughn’s eyes with his own, their mouths so close he could feel the heat of Rhys’ breath on his lips.

Then Rhys was undoing his pants and slipping his hand inside with a smooth motion and every word and question was gone from him except a whisper of Rhys’ name, which drew a smile from the other man. He pressed his mouth against Vaughn’s neck and his hand was so steady, so sure, that Vaughn could do nothing but lean his head back and moan.

And then Rhys’ voice was muffled against his throat,

_This is something you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?_

And that hurt. It actually hurt to hear the acknowledgment that Rhys had always known. That it took him this long to _care_ but then Rhys stood him up and shoved him back towards the desk and now he’s on his knees and Vaughn can barely remember how it all happened.

He twirls his fingers through Rhys’ hair and Rhys lets out a moan that makes Vaughn’s hips roll forward, Rhys expertly taking him deeper with the motion and Vaughn tips his head back, taking sharp breaths to calm himself. He needs this, whatever _this_ is, to last as long as he can hold on to it, but Rhys does not make that easy.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Vaughn hears Rhys say as he pulls away to catch his breath, his voice seductive but playful. Vaughn looks down at him and the image makes his stomach feel agonizingly tight; Rhys with his shirt half undone, hanging off of his shoulder, hair untidy, lips red and obscenely wet. But he’s not looking up at Vaughn. He’s looking past him.

Vaughn replies with a _fuck, yes_ anyway and Rhys’ eyes flick up to meet his. He smiles (almost… sympathetically? Mockingly? Vaughn pushes the thought from his mind) and then stretches his mouth around Vaughn’s cock again with a moan and it’s already so close to being too much. Rhys’ hands are braced on each of Vaughn’s thighs, and Vaughn teases his fingers through his hair, moving his hand and hips to match the bob of Rhys’ head; letting himself become entirely lost in it until he’s coming hard in to the other man’s mouth with a groan. Rhys swallows without hesitation (and when Vaughn thinks _of course he swallows_ he feels ashamed of the thought immediately) and then once his knees are weak and he’s slumping against the desk behind him, Rhys sits back with his legs out and a satisfied look on his face.

Then, when he smiles, he’s looking past Vaughn again. He’s looking past him with fixed, lidded eyes as he wipes a smear of come off the side of his mouth with his thumb and licks it away slowly and deliberately.

Vaughn reaches a hand down to him and Rhys takes it, Vaughn pulling him to his feet easily. He steps closer, his hand moving forward with a bit of caution to cup Rhys’ cock through his strained slacks, but Rhys stops him with long fingers around his wrist and a deep kiss. Vaughn can taste himself on Rhys’ tongue.

“I’ll deal with it later.” He says with a wink, and Vaughn hates himself for blushing at the implication. The thought of Rhys in his office chair with his head thrown back, his heels up on the desk in front of him, makes his chest clench with arousal again.

Rhys leans in and whispers about how much he enjoyed having his mouth on him and other things that even in Vaughn’s most detailed fantasies he hadn’t imagined would come out of Rhys. Rhys makes him promise (and he does promise, with fervor) that they’ll get together again, _very soon_ , and then helps him straighten out and clean up. He leads him to the door, saying something about getting back to work or going to a meeting, but Vaughn is the one not listening this time because he has a question that needs answering. He hates that he does but he needs to hear it from Rhys’ mouth, so he asks,

“Rhys, please, just… what about the Echo eye?”

Rhys sighs and slowly crosses his arms.

“It’s fine, okay? You don’t need to worry about it.” And then after eyeing Vaughn for a moment, he tips his head back a little, almost defiantly.

“Besides, if something were to happen with it, I think things with Jack would be different. Helios is gone. I have… I _would_ have it under control, okay?” He leans forward to kiss Vaughn on the cheek without giving him time to respond, and then ushers him out of the door.

As Vaughn leaves, his stomach feels so heavy he thinks he might be sick. He wants to feel ridiculous for it; and he’s mad at himself. For not trusting Rhys, for thinking he might do something… _that_ irresponsible. Especially without telling him. They were best friends. And what had just happened – it was all he had ever wanted. He would talk to Rhys about it in detail next time. He knows Rhys will open up to him, the way he always has. They were closer now than they ever have been.

He hates that his stomach feels so heavy, though.

\--


End file.
